Cold Feet
by SandraDeee
Summary: All she knows is he wants her.  Last night that was enough.  This morning, she's not so sure.


**Disclaimer: **You know the drill. I don't own _Haven_. If I did, well, I'd have a handful of Troubles and a whole slew of shippers about to hunt me down for the cruelty inflicted in eppy 2.05.

**Author's Note**: So the latest episode of Haven was a complete let down from a character-development standpoint. Even if I didn't have a soft spot for Nathan, as an Audrey fan I was disappointed that all it took for her to jump in the sack with Chris were a few pretty words. So, this one-shot is born from that disappointment. I generally avoid writing stories that directly correlate to episodes, but this one wouldn't let me go. Hopefully I kept everyone in character. :)

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><p>Her feet are cold.<p>

It's the first thought to enter her sleep-addled mind as the early morning sun begins to pour into her small apartment atop the Grey Gull. Bleary eyed, she looks down at her feet. Where are her covers? She soon realizes she only has a scrap of blanket halfway covering her arms and legs, and her feet are decidedly _un_covered.

Next to her, his body shifts in the bed. That's right. Last night really happened. She can feel it in her sore muscles, muscles she'd forgotten she has, muscles that she hasn't exactly exercised lately. But more so she feels it in the harshness of the morning sun as reality sets it. Things look different, feel different, in the cover of night and flickering of candles.

No. The morning after has never really been her favorite thing.

She feels his hand snake across her abdomen.

"You're cold," he murmurs hoarsely. He straightens the covers he has bundled around himself and tosses them over her body, snuggling close to her. "Guess I'm a blanket hog."

"Another reason to think you're a jackass," she replies with a smile, grateful for the warmth.

"You know just what to say to make a guy feel completely unspecial." He means it as a compliment as he leans down kissing her shoulder.

This feels intimate to her, but her mind is spinning. Just a few days ago, she was questioning him in connection with his father's death and the mysterious electrical events in town. They've argued. They've survived deadly vines that feed on hate. They've had sex. They've gone from 0 to 60, and she needs to process it. Not an easy feat with this man in bed with her. Chris's beard tickles her delicate skin, and she squirms.

He shifts, interpreting her squirming as a come-on, she figures out when he begins running his hand across her hips and down her thigh. He turns her to face him and urges her legs apart with this knee.

"I can't get enough of you, Audrey. I'll get you warmed up one way or another," he promises her. And somehow, in the morning glare it seems like more of a threat.

She is relieved when the blaring of the alarm clock makes them both jump slightly. "I've got to get ready for work," she tells him apologetically.

"Play hooky with me." It is not a request. He does not coax her. He demands it of her. She finds it simultaneously obnoxious and attractive.

"I can't."

"You do know this town's not going to come to a grinding halt if Audrey Parker takes the day off." His tone sounds so reasonable.

"There's no such thing."

"Don't you get tired of it?"

"Of what?"

"Everyone always needing something. Needing you. It has to be exhausting."

The look on her face says it all.

"It's what you live for," he realizes. "Still, I think this has to be better. I don't need you. I _want_ you."

"I just…I thought you understood this." She begins to extricate herself from his hold, even as she can feel his desire for her. "Look, I really do need to get ready."

"Is Nathan coming over?"

That question gives her pause. "Not that I know of. Why would he?"

"He called last night."

"He did?" Her voice pitches upward, and from the raising of his eyebrows and the firm set of his mouth, she can tell he has noticed it immediately. "I didn't hear the phone ring," she adds, hoping she sounds a bit more casual. She pulls the top blanket off the bed, wrapping it around herself as she pads toward the kitchen counter—toward her phone—partially dragging the blanket behind her.

From the bed, he groans. "Seriously, Audrey?"

"It might be important," she justifies to him, to herself.

"If it were, he would've called back." He hesitates a moment before he mutters loud enough for her to hear, "Or shown up." At the stricken look on her face, he adds, "He didn't show up, but what would it matter if he had? He's your partner, not your boyfriend. Unless I missed something."

"You're the observer, right? You know the answer to that." No, Nathan is not her boyfriend, but sometimes it feels like he is far more than a partner to her.

"Sorry. I'm at my most curmudgeonly in the morning."

But what she really wants is for him to leave her to her thoughts, to leave her to her phone call.

"Okay if I take a shower?" he asks.

She nods, though she would prefer if he showered at his home.

Truth is, she has no idea where Chris Brody lives. Or what his favorite color is. Or if he has pets. Or if he's a sap around babies. Or if he has any embarrassing hobbies. Or if he likes pancakes.

All she knows is he wants her. Last night that was enough. This morning, she's not sure.

He strides naked across the room and heads toward the small bathroom adjacent to the kitchen.

She reaches for her phone and sees her call log. NATHAN. He called twice the night before. His name is big and bold. So many of her phone calls are with him, and she takes it for granted, but this morning, she is eager to hear his voice.

She presses the send button and hears his phone ringing on the other end. He picks it up, and when she finally hears his voice, he sounds tired. _"Audrey."_

"Nathan. I'm sorry I missed your call last night."

"_Is everything okay?"_

"Everything's…fine."

He hears the hesitation in her voice. _"You sure?"_

"Yeah, I'm sure. What were you calling about last night?"

"Audrey, do you have any shampoo that doesn't smell like flowers? It's hard enough to avoid people, but if I smell pretty…" Chris calls out as he comes back into the room. He sees she's on the phone and asks, "You on the phone with Nathan? Ask him for the day off."

"Nathan, are you still there?"

"_Still here, Parker, but I should let you go. Tell Brody you've got the day off."_

She's not even sure she wants the day off, but she _is_ certain she doesn't want to hang up. Not yet. "Wait. What did you want to say last night?"

"_Doesn't matter." _His response is clipped, resigned, and Audrey gets the distinct impression that it does matter.

"Nathan—"

"_I need to go. Enjoy your day."_ And she hears the connection end.

Her brows furrow. "Something's not right with him. I should go…"

Chris shakes his head. "You should let him be, and we should shower and get some breakfast."

Audrey slowly puts the phone down, unable to get Nathan's voice out of her mind. He sounded distant and disappointed and something else she can't quite pin down.

Chris places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Guess that phone call was the equivalent of the walk of shame for you."

"I'm not ashamed," she is quick to say. "Just worried. He didn't sound like himself."

"But he did give you the day off." She looks at Chris questioningly. "I could hear what he said. I don't think you should worry about Nathan. He's a big boy."

But she does worry. Perhaps foolishly, but she worries. And she wonders. What was he calling to say the night before that he wouldn't say to her now?

"And quite frankly, I don't plan on sharing you with him or anyone else today," Chris adds before pressing a kiss to her forehead. He reaches down, takes her hand, and gently leads her toward the bathroom.

And all she can think is she has cold feet.


End file.
